


Spar

by orphan_account



Category: Diablo (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, but mostly these gay birds over here, the whole council talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: imperius is Grumpymalthael fixes that in the best way ever





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey look, non-smut diablo from yours truly

The wild, passionate debate freezes in their throats when Wisdom arrives, sparing nary a glance to either of them. His hands settle in his lap as he takes his seat, and the two automatically follow suit. A heavy tome exhales a puff of dust as it lands atop the strong table, and quick fingers pick out a spot in seconds, opening to the page they selected. He is silent as he reads, fingertip tracing over the flowing script.

“Tyrael, you had a suggestion?” Auriel finally says into the stifling quiet.

“Oh. Yes. My apologies.”

“Do not apologize. The appearance of our brother was not expected by any except Fate.” She gives a small nod to Itherael, who only glances up briefly.

“I have heard rumors through  _ sources _ that Azmodan, Lord of Sin, is breeding his hellspawn servants to have wings, as a counter to our own flight abilities.” There’s a long pause, then Imperius scoffs.

“That isn't a suggestion. I also have a question about these sources of yours.” A dry chuckle from Wisdom, who looks up from his reading.

“You are just a ray of Anu’s light today, aren't you?” Imperius looks stunned and glances to his siblings, who all nod in agreement. “This  _ relative peace _ is getting to you, Valor. I can see it. Perhaps a friendly sparring match is in order? To help… lose some energy.” Malthael waves a hand around easily and leans forward slightly, lacing his long fingers together. They can feel the smile he’s giving, wings arced high and taut.

“Yes, of course. Why would I say no to sparring?” A hearty, rare chuckle bubbles out of the massive archangel, who leans back a bit, relaxing visibly. Auriel elbows Itherael and motions to Valor, both shocked. He shoots them a withering look and splays one hand over the table. “Well. If that was all, I think this meeting can be recessed.”

“I agree,” Malthael says simply, standing and closing his book, hefting it under one arm.

\------

They meet in an open courtyard, loaned kindly by Tyrael.

“Anything to make Imperius calmer,” was his reasoning. It’s a long, lazy process of peeling off armor and whatnot, leaving only the necessities. Imperius naturally keeps his helmet and the armor below his waistline; Malthael is left with much the same. Valor sneaks glances at the elder, thinking about how deplorably thin he was and the angles of his jutting bones. He had sharp, visible hip bones, masked only by a layer of lean muscle. The dotted line of his spine was visible as well, ghost-pale skin near-glowing in the blazing light. Imperius is far bulkier, limbs and torso piled thick with hefty muscle. Malthael is staring, sneaking peeks at that lovely figure when the younger isn't looking. It's almost a game;  _ how long can I look without being caught? _

“So, Wisdom,” Imperius begins, treading closer slowly, “are you ready?”

“Of course,” he rasps, keeping his hood tipped conversationally as he rakes his impossible gaze over each curve, a hidden predator eying prey. Strangely enough, the shorter archangel is doing much the same--letting his gaze roam over the skinny being before him.

_ I could put both of my hands clear around his middle, _ he thinks with vague amazement. The human phrases  _ beanpole  _ and  _ thin as a rail  _ come to mind, and he’s tempted to wrap one hand completely around a lean bicep.

“Please,” he starts, “tell me if I hurt you. You're… rather slim, and I would hate to put one of the other council members out of commission.”

“Slim is an understatement,” he sighs wistfully, shrugging noncommittally and gesturing vaguely to the air. “You however… are completely the opposite, to be frank.”

“Yes. I am.” One of the angels of justice passes by, having heard their conversation.

“By Anu! You’re archangels, but you’re more awkward than any two mortals I’ve ever seen! Why don't you just  _ kiss _ already?”

Imperius whips his head around, wings flaring. 

“ _ What?! _ ” The angel laughs heartily and flies away, quick as a comet. Malthael folds his arms, tipping his head to one side and letting his eyes slide along the rigid set of those shoulders.  _ Different _ thoughts fill his head, and he’s struck with the caricature of a tiny angel and demon that humans use to personify morality.

_ Oh my. Wonder about those hips,  _ the lewd thoughts whisper, and his normally stiff, unbiased judgement drops away without a fight.  _ I could hang off those shoulders… kiss my way down his front, touch  _ everything…

He rubs an arm and drags his eyes upward to the glittering helmet, which turns to him again.

“My apologies, Malthael. Shall we spar?”

“Yes,” he blurts out, “let’s.” If the other is taken aback at all, he doesn't show it.

They start easily--with a promise to fight fairly. Then they’re off--for all of three seconds. Wisdom blinks and looks around, seeing the soft, feathery grasses of the Courts padding him, Imperius hanging over him, sky surrounding him.

“Are you alright?” He bursts into laughter, voice jumping around as he slowly props himself on his elbows.

“Yes, I'm fine. I just hadn't thought I'd go down so quickly.”

Valor straightens, helping him to his feet and puffing up with pride.

“I  _ am _ the best fighter in all the Heavens,” he says smugly, pulling his hand away after a moment to settle back into stance. Malthael chuckles and does the same, wings set to give him a bit better balance. He goes wide-eyed at the near miss that passes his face, the hand curled into a white-knuckled fist. He staggers at another hit, mentally berating himself for getting distracted. He blocks a third blunt hit and retaliates, nailing Valor in the jaw rather neatly. He stops in shock; few actually  _ hit _ Imperius, fewer still told of the tale afterward. The stockier archangel reels and touches the spot, then bursts into peals of raucous laughter. Wisdom is standing there gaping as if his fellow councilman had just sprouted another head, which draws even more laughter out--the sound starts turning into breathless squeaking, Valor doubling over.

“You hit me!” He says, finally catching his breath.

“I… I hit you…” Malthael mutters, hands fluttering around like he isn't sure what to do with them.

“Excellent work!”

“Wh...what?”

“I said excellent work. Did you not hear me?” He straightens, wings settled into a relaxed fold, shoulders slanted in a friendly posture. He seems perfectly fine, although Wisdom is floundering, hands finally settling to elbows as he shifts back, arms folded defensively.

“I did. It doesn't make sense.”

“Why not?”

“I hit you. Normally… that would be bad news, but you're  _ congratulating me. _ ” Imperius jerks a little, seeming a bit disappointed at the snap.

“Did you not feel you deserve it?” No reply, and those skinny shoulders hike up, wings fluffing out. He's conflicted between annoyance and running away. Understandable, given the circumstances, but still a bit hurtful. Finally, the elder shakes himself out, forcing his mind to close up and relax. A difficult task, but one he's used to anymore. Imperius says nothing, mutely shifting back into stance as well. They trade a few mock-up hits, then get down to business. Malthael seems distant, shrugging off hits and seeming to ignore most of what’s happening to himself. Eventually, Imperius stops, flipped onto his back. He huffs a little and looks away, behaving like a petulant spark.

“This isn't as fun now,” he grumbles, and Wisdom says nothing, stepping back and allowing him to sit up.

“Why not?”

“You're not into it! You're just…” he waved, snorting.

“Just  _ what, _ Imperius?” He stands, and waves again.

“You weren't all there. I felt like I was fighting a puppet.” Malthael says nothing a moment, but rubs his shoulder and walks off to the tidy pile of armor and clothing.

“If you're going to complain, then I won't force you through it anymore.”

“It's not that, no!” Valor rushes over, pulling the lanky archangel away by the waist.

_ He's cold, _ Imperius thinks, holding his leader in the air--barely. Their height difference is accentuated comically like this, and Malthael twists, grabbing at his helmet.

“Put me down!”

“Not until you lighten up,” he snaps, pulling the other further away from his armor and ignoring the knocking his head is receiving.

“ _ Put me down! _ ” Wisdom shouts.

“You heard me the first time!” Valor replies, equally as loudly. The skinny being finally wrests free, stumbling a bit before going after him. He’s ready though, and they clash again, this time with more vigor. Wisdom is quick and tall, but his partner is shorter and far stronger. "Now you're into it!"

It's an interesting fight, to put it lightly.

\------

“Hold still!” Itherael snaps, prodding the wound in irritation. Malthael hisses in displeasure and glares, finally holding still. Bandages get wrapped around the cut, Fate tutting like a scolding mother.

“I can't believe the two of you let it go this far,” they grumbled, checking the skinny wrist over before letting the arm go, turning to Valor. He smiles, briefly, before the expression drops at the sight of more bandages.

“I'm fine,” he says stiffly, but Itherael is having none of that. A couple of their wing tendrils grab him and sit him back down, moving him about and allowing them to patch his bumps and scrapes up. “I suppose now would be a bad time to ask to be pinned or collared?” Valor comments, smirking to Wisdom, who growls a bit.

“I'll tie you up, regardless if you're bruised or not.” He tips his chin up defiantly to Fate, who scoffs.

“Even after sparring you two are insufferable.”

“We try,” Imperius snarks, earning a sweet, melodic laugh out of his lover.


End file.
